Black gold and blue diamonds
by Evigheten
Summary: Bond is given the task to keep a ministers daughter safe until a agreement that could change the world forever, is signed. A battle against the mafia and dictators. Will Bond be able to keep here safe? Rated T for now.
1. Chapter 1

**Black gold and blue diamonds **

First; I own nothing! Second; English is my third language, so there are bound to be a lot of mistakes made, please let me know!

I decided to write two chapter of this down since it has been playing around in my head for a while. I did not know what characters I could use until I saw Skyfall and realized that this could fit as a Bond fiction! I am not the most Bond-competent person, but I will try to make it as realistic as I can!

I have made two chapters, if anyone likes them I'll make more :)

**Chapter 1**

The rain and the fog made the usually impressive view over London blurry; he felt blurry as well. He had just gotten of the plane from Singapore and had not slept at all the last few days. He enjoyed Singapore, it was the best of Asia and Europe mixed together, and the weather was always better than it was here in Britain. He was somewhat disappointed that he could not stay a bit longer there and have a few days of.

His shirt was wrinkled after the long flight, but the driver that had picked him up at Heathrow had insisted they came direct to the headquarters.

M's office looked the same way it did when he had started working as an agent, but it was unusual that she was not there waiting for him, he had almost never been here alone before. He cursed silently as he burned his lip on the scolding tea he had been served. It took just a few seconds before M came through the heavy wooden door.

"Bond, thank you for coming her directly, this could not wait". She was a small and short woman, but somehow she managed to scare him too much to ever argue with her. M sat down in her thrown like chair and started pulling out stacks of paper from her desk drawer.

"I am sure that even in Asia this news has been on every newspaper there is, Norway has struck the biggest oil reserve in the world. They have until now been number 13 on the production list of oil, now they are a solid number one. In the rest of the world the oil reserves are owned by private companies and persons, in Norway the government owns it all. And now the damn socialists have decided to make a contribution to make the world better by selling the newfound oil so cheap that no other country can beat their prices. By doing this Norway hopes not only to reduce world poverty, but also put pressure on other oil producing countries to become democracies and to create welfare systems".

"So by almost giving away oil the Norwegians are demanding that Russia, Iraq, China and Venezuela and so on, have to become democratic and start ending poverty in their own countries? How is this a problem for us?" Obviously he had seen this in the news in Singapore, but it was first now he realized how big this was. And he had to admit it did not sound too unwise.

"They are already too rich for their own good if you ask me, and now they are trying to find a way to award themselves with the Nobel prize! So yes, this is a problem for us, because the deal is not signed yet, and it will take up to three weeks for it to be".

"And what do you need me for?" He was tired and judging by the way M raised her left eyebrow she did not like his sour behavior. He sighed in defeat.

"The minister of oil and energy is the man behind the idea of giving away oil, obviously this has upset other people in the world oil industry. Such as the Russians and the Chinese. And you and I both know that you should avoid stepping on those toes, the blue eyed and naive Norwegians have not realized it yet. The minister and his office are protected by their national security service, but he has a daughter living in London. And as Norway is stubborn and rich enough not to join the EU we cannot allow Norway to send agents to protect the minister's daughter, therefor we have to do it. Well, it is your job now to make sure that this deal is signed. If anything happens to her, Norway might start negotiating with whoever got the girl and that could stall the signing proses for years. Therefore you are to keep the girl safe and alive!"

"What? No, absolutely not, surly there are other more competent agents for this kind of job, or even better, throw her out of England, make her go home!" He was not a bloody babysitter, and he was really the last man for this job.

This comes from above me Bond, the prime minister called me almost on the verge of tears; they wanted you and only you. God knows why, but nevertheless, it is your assignment for the next few weeks. It is my understanding that every top leader in the vest wants this deal to go as smooth as can be, so unless you want the secretary-general of the UN to call, I suggest you do as I say, Bond". Her tone made it clear that this was the end of the discussion.

"I understand. So what is the plan?"

"Make sure the girl stays alive. Unfortunately I do not know much about her yet, the only information I have is what the boarder records says. She moved here three months ago, and has visited London a few weekends over the years; she also attended summer classes in Oxford a few years ago. According to her passport information she is 21 years old and is living here on a student visa, she is educated as a social worker and is now studying a master in family therapy at the University of London. She lives on campus, but we have arranged for a secure location in Notting Hill, it's in the file. This is what I know for now, so until the Norwegian police manages to send more information this is what you have to work with"

"She's 21 and a social worker? And the daughter of a minister? Well, not something you see every day that's for sure. Where is she now?" Granted, he had not had a lot of guarding jobs before, but minister's children tended to have more, well prominent jobs then a common social worker, and she was very young to already be working on her masters.

"Well the papers say so, and I hardly think a minister's daughter would dare to lie on her student visa. She is landing at Heathrow in five hours; she has been back in Norway for a few weeks where she has been under Norwegian jurisdiction. She is to be escorted by a Norwegian policeman, but he cannot leave the airport so you will meet her there. Moneypenny has the file for you where her passport photo should be included"

"Very well, let me know when the other papers come through, but in the meantime I'll try and see if I can find anything on her myself". He poured the now cold tea down in one gulp before standing up.

"Be careful Bond, make sure this goes as smoothly as it can"

"You have my word" He left the office, turned in the door and gave his boss a small nod. Moneypenny was busy whit a phone call so he left with the file without much pleasantries.

He knew he had a crisp shirt in his office, but the thought of spending more time that day in a box made him turn in the hallway and head for the rainy streets of London instead.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

1: I don't own anything

2: Let me know of any spelling or grammar mistakes

3: Thank you for the reviews! 3

It turned out to be harder to catch a cab then what he had anticipated it would be, and by the time he was home in his flat he was soaking wet. Hopefully it would not ruin his new suit. With a towel wrapped around him he stepped out of the shower, the air in his flat felt cold, but it made him feel a little more awake so he decided not to do anything about it.

His flat was located in a quiet and posh part of London, the kind of place where anything out of the ordinary would stand out like a sore thumb. If someone broke into his place or a car would stand outside spying; the neighbors would call their private security company. Luckily nothing out of the ordinary had happened so far, no one knew where he lived.

The place had been redone by its previous owner, a slightly paranoid banker who had to sell the place. The flat was too big for just him, especially as he never was home, but it fitted his needs, it was safe. He was in the kitchen; the sound of the microwave working on his dinner was the only thing you could hear. All the windows and doors in the flat was bullet and soundproof, maybe he was the paranoid one?

He opened the file on the girl the world's future rested upon, M was right; there was very little information on her. It looked as if she went to London once a year in January for the last few years; he guessed weekends in London had to be more appealing than a weekend in Oslo. He had been in Norway a few times, only in the capital though, it was nice, small, clean and quiet. He could definitely see why the girl had moved to London.

The passport photo did not show a blond girl as he might had been expecting, the girl had brown hair and killed the myth that Norwegians always were blond. She had a round face, pronounced cheekbones, and blue eyes. Well then maybe the myth was not entirely killed. She was a pretty girl, and her blue eyes were intense even on a bad photocopy. By the looks of it he would guess the picture was taken a few years ago, she looked younger than 21 on it.

He did a quick Google search for her, mostly her father came up, but there were a few articles on her as well. Mostly interviews for different organizations, he did not trust the translate program completely, but it seemed as if she was a fairly intelligent girl, in which he was glad. There were only a few pictures of her online as well, and they seemed older too. He did not find her on Facebook or any other social media channel; that made the job easier, less for other people to hack. He ate the now warm dinner his maid had made and frozen down for him, she had almost cried when he said he did not cook or have anyone to cook for him, so now she did.

As he looked at his watch he made a mental note for the fiftieth time that day to get a new one. The one he was wearing had gotten bumped once too many lately and was not as precise as he needed it to be. He stood up from the stool by the kitchen island and headed for his bedroom, throwing the towel on to a chair before he climbed into his bed. He had two hours before he had to leave and needed to sleep first


	3. Chapter 3

I own nothing!

Btw; see challenge at the bottom!

**Chapter 3**

The rain had not stopped by the time he arrived at Heathrow, and he cursed the British weather for the fifth time that day. He parked at one of the spaces reserved for the police at one of the employee entrances, glad to find that he was close to the gate he was looking for.

He saw the plane land, and while it was being connected to the gate he saw two persons step out of the back of the plane. The rain had not come as a surprise for the two people who were guided in to the secluded area he stood, they were dressed in large raincoats and rain boots.

He remembered the first time he had gone to Norway; he had been genuinely shocked to see that even the Kings bodyguards were unarmed. The policeman in front of him was not only unarmed, he wore red rain boots as well. Socialists. He had been right about the girl, she had been younger in the pictures, she was less round-faced now, and her eyes had achieved that level of maturity that parted the young from the older. She was dressed in rain boots and a raincoat too, her hair wild from the short walk from the plane, she was taller than what he had expected. And she was pretty, he had to admit that. The policeman escorting her could only be a few years older than her, he was dressed casually in jeans, Bond could not even imagine being dressed that casually on duty.

The Norwegian policeman's accent was thick and the man introduced himself and smiled as if he was meeting a long lost friend, luckily they only shook hands. Bond showed of the correct documents and identification as well as some paperwork the Norwegian man would take with him back to Norway. The whole ordeal was over within a few minutes and as he was about to take the girl with him and leave the Norwegian officer and the girl hugged and said some goodbyes in an odd-sounding language. How long had they known each other?

"Miss Hagen, would you please join me, we should not stay to long in public. Your suitcase will be brought in by the British Secret Service for a thorough security check.

I am James Bond, and I will be the one in charge of your security for how long it takes" I gave her some short and hasty information, on a need to know basis, the less she knew the better. I turned to walk away, and it only took the girl a few moments to realize that she would have to follow me.

I am sorry guys that I have not been able to update sooner, but I have been super busy with work and school the last few weeks, luckily from next week on I have a lot more time to work on this fiction! And, sorry this update is short, promise that the next chapter will be long!

Challenge: I do not know where I am going with this story, so as a challenge for me (and good for you so you can dictate some of the story) I want you to give me 1 word/thing/place etc that I have to put in story – 1 word for each review!


	4. Chapter 4

First: as always – I own nothing!

Second: thanks for the nice reviews everyone! And thanks for joining the challenge; it helped me a lot actually, so I will do a new one!

Challenge: the first person that gives the next chapter a review can name a piece of clothing that has to be in the next chapter I post! Only the first person! ;)

Also, I'll do the rest of the story with "I" instead of "he/she"… made more sense this way ;)

Chapter 4

Victoria POV

My father had always been a good man, a good father and a good politician. He was well liked, mostly because he never took any major political risks and he never did anything remotely out of order or against the law. He was all in all a stabile man in a big political party. Even though this might not sound as praise, it is, my father is a wonderful person and I love him dearly. So you have to understand, this whole idea of giving away oil to save the world is not the kind of thing he would do, he would support the idea, yes, but he would never suggest it. So this all leads me to believe that he had sort of "saved up" on political ideas to make a really large one. And this was big! Our whole family was in shock when we found out, I think even my father was a bit shocked too.

What happened was that when the massive oilfield was found the nation buzzed and argued for weeks what to do, should we make the welfare system stronger, save the money, leave it in the ocean and so on. My father was on a big talk show when he made a comment that it should be given away and push the rest of the world in a more "Norwegian way". I had laughed at my father's comment as I was streaming it on my computer in my flat in London, I knew him well enough to know it had been a joke.

The rest of the country did not, and before any of us knew what had happened, my father, the polite, careful man who everyone liked had gone and made himself the most talked about person in the world. The man who would make world peace happen and end poverty once and for all.

I had just moved to England, London to be precise and I had finished with unpacking my last box of books that day, school had just begun and I was enjoying it all. I was glad I had decided on England instead of Australia, it had been just a few days here and it already felt at home.

It did not take long before my father, and the party started getting a lot of threats, I guess that came as no surprise. And then after that it took only a day or two before my family, and I started getting threats too. It surprised me at first, I almost laughed of it, that was until I came home and found my new flat broken in to and a very nasty note on my bed. It got bad after that. Luckily my university was kind, or to scared what it would do to their reputation if they did not act, and allowed me to go back to Norway and do my work online.

The threats kept coming, letters reassuring me that they would hurt everyone I knew if this deal was signed, they made my father out to be this horrifyingly bad guy with some sort of a terrorism agenda. The good part of this was that the nation stood together, really believing this could be a good thing for the world. We had constant security around us, which was new to us; it was just the prime minister and the king who used to have that.

After a few weeks back home I realized that I had to go back to London soon. I had obligations to my studies that I had to maintain, and it was hard doing that from my old, pink bedroom in a small town without any library. The arrangements were made surprisingly fast and I knew better than to argue when I was told I had to stay in hiding with an agent, it was this or nothing.

My father was stuck in the capital and was unable to see me of at the airport, but my mother and my brother was there and I could not help but think if I was ever going to see them again as I walked away. The agent I was being escorted by was not any of the once protecting my family, I had only met him a few times before.

It was only a light drizzle when we landed in England, and our rainboots and coats seemed a little over excessive compared to the weather in Norway. We got of the plane in the back and made our way to one of the closed of parts of the gate where someone from the British Intelligence were to meet us. It shocked me to find that the agent was not a woman as I was promised, but a very handsome male agent. He was dressed impeccably in a black suit, his hair short, broad shoulders, but he looked tired. I had used to work in a clothing store for men, and considered myself as quite good on suits, and the suit the agent was wearing was not the cheap kind. The two agents talked briefly and exchanged forms and papers, and as my Norwegian agent was about to leave he said some comforting words before giving me a brief hug. Too bad he had to go back to Norway.

The British agent gave me some short information, he did not seem happy to be here, but he was polite. He turned on his heel and walked away so quick I almost lost him, so I half jogged behind him. His car was, like the suit, nothing any Norwegian policeman or agent would own; even with my limited knowledge about cars I knew this was a good one.

The windows were tinted and as the car slowly moved in the London traffic I realized that this was probably the last time I was going to be able to be out around people in a while. I needed to get a few things from my apartment and some shops, but in this fancy car with a secret agent, well it felt odd to ask if we could stop so I could buy tampons and makeup remover. The man next to me did not belong to the rest of us; he was this mirage, and nothing like the men I knew. Nevertheless I did need to get some stuff, and it took me a few seconds to remember how to form my words correct in English after not using the language in weeks.

"Excuse me sir, but there are a few belongings that I need from my apartment and a few items from a drugstore as well, there is a Boots store on the corner of my building, it would only take five minutes. We are not that far away from it now actually". I did not dare to look at the man, I had no idea how I looked and I was sure I would forget how to form a sentence if he saw me in the eyes.

"Unfortunately your apartment has been emptied and all of your belongings are put away safely in a secret storage, but give me a list and I will arrange for the items to be retrieved for you. The same goes to any other items you need, make me a list and an agent will pick it up for you. If you do it now I think they will manage to have it ready at the headquarters by the time we get there".

"Wait, you emptied my apartment without telling me? That is private property and you can't just…" I was rambling, and I was glad he stopped me before I said something I would regret.

"I can assure you, the agents who emptied it have seen it all before, and that they were very discreet. And the Norwegian prime minister was told, as well as your father".

"They knew? I am sorry I lost my temper, it is hardly your fault, would it be possible to get a list on what they found?" There were one item that was hidden, and it would be bad if it got in the wrong hands. We were stuck in traffic and had stopped just outside a drugstore; somehow I thought the agent would think less of me if I tried to run away from him…

"That list can be arranged, and the same goes for you, write down what you need and it will be organized". The man did not look at me, and he still had his stone face on. I was glad I had decided to put pen and a notebook in my purse, I am sure it would have killed me to ask the agent for it. From my apartment I needed a few books, some clothes and if found, a USB stick. I really needed that USB stick! From the drugstore I needed makeup remover, tampons, nail polish remover and mascara, I had left mine back home and just realized it when I was on the plane. Before I got a chance to tear out the piece of paper the agent took my notebook from my hands and took a picture of it and sent it to someone. He gave me back the book without a word, I stuttered thanks.

We drove for another thirty minutes before he suddenly in the middle of a street took a sharp turn and what I thought would be a brick wall, was an underground garage. The door behind us closed the second the car was on the inside. I was happy I had not screamed.

"This is out headquarters Miss, we will only stay here for a few minutes, would you please follow me". It was not really a question, I was fairly certain I had to come with him no matter what.

There were hallways after hallways, marble and glass, no windows. And again the agent walked so fast I was halfway jogging behind him to keep up. Suddenly the wall in front of us diapered and we entered a room full of people dressed in lab coats sitting next to computers. The room was big; it looked as if it had used to be a warehouse but now turned in to, well whatever this was. At the end of the room, there was an elevated podium with a man standing on top of it, he was managing a huge screen on the wall and I saw a picture of me flying across it. How on earth had thy found that picture, it was taken when I was 17 and a little bit drunk and it looked a lot worse than what it really was. The man on the podium shut it all down when he realized I was in the room.

"Where did you get that picture? I can explain, it is not what it looks like!" I was turning red of embarrassment; there were probably thirty people in that room, and Mr. stone-faced agent.

"Ah Miss. Hagen, I am sorry, you were not supposed to see that, however I cannot tell you where I have retrieved it, but, well…" The man, well, boy, he could hardly be more than 22 years old, my age. The agent stopped him mid-sentence, and only waved for him to follow, he did the same to me. Both computerboy and I followed him in to a smaller, private room.

"We do not have a lot of time, Q, would you please fill us in on the information, and did you get my list?" The boy with the strange name quickly went to a smaller screen, and started navigating it with only his hands in the air, fancy computer. It went by so quickly that I only got confused, so I decided on only focusing on what he was saying. He told us about the safe house, what the MI6 could provide etc. He took up his phone and a short moment later another man dressed in an expensive suit came in carrying a bag I knew was mine, as well as a plastic bag from Boots. Further humiliation, the man who I presumed was a younger agent looked like he had walked out of an Armani commercial and he had now been out buying me tampons. Great.

The Armani agent was obviously underneath my agent in order, and as soon as Mr. Bond said thanks, the young man all but ran out from the room. I would much rather have him guarding me than Mr. Bond, I was however stuck with the older and grumpier agent.


	5. Chapter 5

I am so sorry about the long wait; I have been traveling so much it has been hard to find time writing. Sorry, sorry, sorry!

Let me know what you think of this, and let me know if you have any thoughts on what should happen next – I have no plan to this fiction yet!

xoxo

Chapter 5

«Would you please hand me your bag, Miss Hagen?» The man Mr. Bond had called Q pushed his glasses back up his nose and reached for my bag. It was not that there was anything I needed to hide in it, it was the principle; you just don't look inside a woman's bag. I raised one eyebrow as I picked my new Alexa Mulberry from the floor next to me. It had been my reward to myself after working so hard to get my Bachelor's degree while keeping a job on the side of school. It had been so expensive I had told my father it was a cheap knockoff I got of Ebay, he would never understand it. My mum had laughed at my little lie and asked to borrow the bag.

I handed it over to Q and he almost dropped it, surprised by it's weight. I was almost sure I heard Mr. Bond snort. I had expected that they would take my bag and I would not see it until the situation calmed down, instead Q started pulling all my stuff out of the bag and put it on the table between us. My laptop, my Ipad, a book about children from warzones and how to find out if they had a post-traumatic stress syndrome; needless to say, it was for school. I had a habit of packing smaller bags inside my bag, one for school things such as pens and markers, one for makeup and one for everything else. Q started going through everything and pulled out everything that was electronic, it got kind awkward when a condom fell out of one of the smaller bags. Luckily, Q blushed more then I did.

"I need your phone, Miss" Q now almost looked a little afraid, and I felt the anger roll of me, I started to feel like a criminal and not the victim. You could hardly see it was an Iphone with all the rhinestones and whatnot on it. I wished I had put on a more neutral case, I could only imagine what the two men in the room thought of it. I offered the passwords for both phone and laptop, but Q halfway laughed and said he really did not need that.

I feel naked without laptop, Ipad and my phone, and all I could think about while Q and Mr. Bond talked was what I was going to do for the next three weeks. I did not have more than four books with me, all I had read before, this could be a long time in hiding.

"There have been a few changes in regards of the safe house, and we are relocating you to a smaller town just outside of London. There are less chance of someone finding you there and it would be easier for 007 to keep surveillance around the place. You leave in ten minutes. Any questions?" I hardly noticed that they were talking to me again and I more or less just mumbled that it sounded good, somewhat unsure what I was agreeing to.

"I need to get a few supplies before we go, if you need anything there is a small kitchen, restroom and a sitting room just inside that door, wait there". Mr Bond stood up and walked off with Q and they left me in the room with frosted glass windows. I needed to use the restroom before we left so I grabbed the now a lot lighter bag and found the empty kitchen.

I looked myself in the bathroom, it was all white. I looked in the mirror and it took me a second to recognize the person in the reflection. My chest and throat started closing up, my heart was pounding and everything started moving around me. I grabbed hold of the wall closest to me and managed to get down to the floor without falling and hitting my head on the stone floor. Was this an anxiety attack? What was happening? I tried desperately to remember what I had learnt about anxiety in school but nothing came to me. Black spots came in my vision and I was hyperventilating and had to kneel on my hands as well as my knees to stay up. It took all of my self-control to get my breathing down to a normal rate, telling myself I needed to calmly count to a 100. After a while, I was calm again, I admit I was scared. It is not a good thing to get your first full-blown panic attack in a locked bathroom. I think it was more that I was so scared by what just had happened that anything else, but suddenly I was crying like I never had before. This was the first time I had cried since the first threats, even when my apartment was broken into I had not shed a single tear. But now it dawn upon me the seriousness of everything, I was scared for my family and friends, what if something happened to them? Why on earth had I insisted on going back to London? I should have stayed put with my family, not going on this selfish trip; and for what use? I would not be able to go to school anyway, I would be locked up inside without anything to do besides to avoid an angry agent who had been pushed to do this silly assignment. I felt my throat was about to close up again and I closed my eyes and counted to a hundred. I was a mess, sitting on a bathroom floor, mascara flowing and nothing made sense. I did the only thing that was reasonable in that situation; I got up, wiped away the smudged mascara and added a bright pink lipstick. Wear a bright color and no one will notice that pimple you have or that you just had a breakdown.

A knock on the door caused me to jump; I had been in here for a while and had forgotten about time. I opened the door and smiled what I hoped looked like a convincing smile.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

The car we drove off to the safe house in was not as noticeable as the car we had used earlier that afternoon, but it was still a lot nicer then the cars the Norwegian agents had used. The windows were tinted in this one too, and I could see my face in the reflection of them, and with the raindrops outside it looked as my own tears.

I had noticed that my bags were in the back of the car and I was glad that I would at least have something familiar with me in the new place. How sad was it not that even the smallest of material things could lift my spirit?

The unfamiliar man next to me had hardly said a word to me, well, nor had I to him. I got tired of studying myself in the contorted reflection in the windows and started studying him instead. He was indeed a handsome man, emphasizing on the man part, even if he had expensive taste in clothes, cars and cologne – which I could faintly smell, and he smelled good! He did not strike me as vein, his hair had begun to retreat and he had faint creeks next to his eyes, that surprised me, he did not strike me as a man who smiled a lot. His jaw was strong and so were his hands as they skillfully handled the wheel, he was a good driver even if he drove very fast.

"We need to stop soon, we are going to change car, it is not likely someone could have followed us, but I would not like to take that chance. After then it's only fifteen minutes or so before we are at the safe house" He looked stern as he gave the information, but he must have sensed that I was nervous because he let out a breath and changed his expression and tone.

"I can only imagine what you are going through, I am sure it has been a few long weeks and that being locked up might not be what you need right now. I can promise you that I will keep you safe and you need to trust me on that. If we work together it will be a lot easier for both of us, and hopefully you won't feel like killing me when all this is over" He turned his head towards me for a short moment and gave me a surprisingly gentle smile. I let out a shaky breath and relaxed for the first time in a long while.

"When that is said there are a few details you need to know, I guess we could call them rules, but they are only there to protect you. First of all, you have to do as I tell you to, if I say run you have to run and if I tell you to hide you do that as well, you must never stop and think of me; I can take care of myself. Also you cannot leave the house, and if you want to sit in the garden you need to let me know so I can join you. Never, never go outside or contact anyone. Your computer is in one of you bags but Q made sure there are no way to detect it, therefor you do not have internet, but I think he made a hard drive with movies for you. I have a phone and you can use that one once in a while to contact your family to say hi, but I will be present when you use it and you can never tell then anything about where you are. Last, but most importantly you must never lie to me, I am here to keep you safe, and I need you to be honest with me".

"I can live with that, I guess it's only fair given that it was my fault you got stuck with this whole thing for the next weeks. Thank you sir, it does mean a lot to know my father and my country having England on our side" He smiled at that, and pulled over to a parking lot where another car stood waiting for us. He was about to leave the car, but stopped for a second.

"Stay in the car… and please call me James".

The other agent we meet up with was a bit older then the once I had seen so far, he was even more stiff then what James had been and the two agents only nodded before starting to take my luggage into the new car. When they were done James and the other agent both came to the side I was sitting at, it was like this dance they knew by heart. They shielded me as we walked the few steps over to the new car; James opened the door as the older agent helped me inside. James quickly went to the driver's side and started up the car while the other agent pulled the seatbelt on me and fastened it. And as soon as he shut the door, James pushed the gas and we were on our way.

We drove through a small village and out to the countryside where a charming, small house waited for us. James drove the car as close to the house as he could, he gestured for me to wait in the car while he went to the door; which even though looked like it was a hundred years old had a small coded keypad to enter so one could open the door. As soon as the door was opened, he came back to me and escorted me inside the house. He told me to wait before he closed the door behind him and started unpacking the car.


	7. Chapter 7

I do have a good reason for the absent, I finished my bachelor degree and got a real grown up job! So, so sorry though, I will try an post another chapter within a few days!

xoxo

VPOV

The house striked me as something close to a British cliché, it was every bit of what I imagined a small countryside cottage would look like. It was located on a hillside with a beautiful view and a small rose garden turned brown by the fall. Ivy in reds and browns clung to the walls around the kitchen window as I looked outside.

The inside was sparsely, but beautifully decorated with warm colors and comfortable furniture. A large bookshelf stood in the living room filled with books wish gave me a faint hope that I would have something to do the next week, or weeks.

The small kitchen held what it needed to, and I began making tea. I noticed that the fridge was fully stocked as I looked for milk; I made a mental note to see if I could find a cookbook in the bookshelf later on. Mr. Bond, or James I guess, finished unpacking the car in time for the fresh tea. We settled in a comfortable silence.

The next week was uneventful, I cleaned, read and wrote on my master paper, cooked and every night James and I would end up discussing some current political or ethical problem. Under the circumstances, it was actually very pleasant. I slept badly however, sleep never came and when it did it was troubled by nightmares.

JPOV

A week in the assignment everything had so far gone as well as could be, Miss. Hagen (or

Victoria as she insisted I call her by her first name) proved to be good company and I had to

admit I had been wrong about her. She was not the spoilt and ignorant child of a minister; she was a well-educated and bright woman. She insisted on doing the cooking and cleaning, I guess to keep occupied; she made great food so I kept my mouth shut and thanked her. I did the dishes; it had become this unsaid agreement.

I had done the last round to make sure everything was in order before going to bed, all were doors locked, windows closed, no unknown cars outside and no unknown people inside. Victoria had went to bed early that night with a headache so I had checked her room before she had fallen asleep. Her room was located further from the stairs then my room, the window in her room was also facing the back of the house, more covered by trees. Harder for anyone to see inside, or manage to get a good shot at. The windows were all covered with vintage looking bars, they were however just a few weeks old. I had the room closest to the stairs putting myself in the middle of Victoria and some potential assassin. I slept with the door ajar and was always on guard, my weapon on the nightstand. This night were no exception, I had stepped into my pyjamas pants and was about to take of the white t-shirt I wore under button down shirts. I heard Victoria scream and glass shattering at the end of the hall and grabbed the gun I just had put down and ran towards her room. As I sprung into the bedroom it took less than two seconds to establish that no one but Victoria was there, it was a small room with nowhere to hide. In front of the bed stood Victoria looking disheveled with tears streaming down her face and her hair wild. She stood deadly still looking at the gun I still held high. I realized she was standing on broken glass.

VPOV

My nightmares tended to be a mix of every bad experience and thought I had in me, there were always weapons, darkness and chaos in them, and every time the bad dreams woke me I was exhausted after a sleep filled with suspense and angst. This night was worse than before and this time I sprung up from bed knocking over the glass of water and glass mug on my nightstand so it fell to the ground and shattered in thousands of pieces with a bang that caused my newly woken self to scream. Before I managed to do anything James came storming in with a gun, which caused the blood in my body to freeze.

"Do not move, not even a muscle!" James left the gun out of sight on a shelf before seconds' later coming back whit a pair of shoes in hand. He quickly pulled them on and came close to me.

"You are standing on broken glass so I need to lift you up so it won't do any more damage, lift your hands slowly up and put them around my neck. When you do that, I will lift you right up, alright? I did as he said, to out of myself to understand what just had happened.

He lifted me up and held me tight against himself, he ordered me to put my feet around him, and had I not been so scared I would have protested, blushed and probably died at this point. He held me up as if I weighed next to nothing and he quickly got me to the bathroom where he sat me down on the counter between to sinks. He turned round and switched on the light, grabbing a first aid kit from a drawer next to the door and placed a towel underneath my feet. I saw how the white towel got red spots and I started to feel the pain.

"What happened?" His eyes did not leave my feet as he was gently pulling broken glass from my feet; I let out a shaky breath and wiped away the reminder of tears on my cheeks before answering-

"To be quite honest I don't know, I have been sleeping so badly and keep having nightmares, and I guess this night was even worse than before. I just woke up being so scared I must have knocked the glass and mug over. I am so sorry about all this; your job is not to babysit me or being my nurse…" I groaned as he pulled the last piece of glass out of my foot and as the adrenaline was coming down the pain really kicked in. It also hit me that I was only dressed in a pair of nickers and a tank top, and you could see the scars on my thigh very clearly. It got me uneasy and all I wanted to do was to jump down and go to my room.

"You have to sit still, I'm almost done, just need to disinfect the wounds first, it will sting, sorry… When was the last time you slept well?" For the first time he looked up at me, no judgment in his eyes, only concern. It only intensified as he too noticed my scars.

"Last time I slept well was the summer of 2011, but it kinda got worse this august I guess"

"2011? Well, lack of sleep can bring out the worst from all of us. I am done, but I don't think there are any painkillers around here. I'll go check downstairs, don't move" He walked downstairs and quickly came back with an unopened bottle of Whisky and a glass. He poured a hearty dose in the glass before filling it with a little water from the tap, I was glad he did. He gave me the glass and I decided to just down it all to get it over with. James started to clean up and I was glad to see that there had only been a few, small pieces of glass he threw away.

"Those scars, they are from guns, how did you get them?" James were washing blood from his hands, an MI6 would definitely recognize them. I reached the bottle and filled myself another drink, although a bit smaller one, and downed that one too.

"Give me five minutes to let the alcohol do its job, and I'll tell you"


End file.
